Sugar and Spice and Puppy Dog Tails
by Stupid computer
Summary: The skirt was made out of old denim, the hem was coming undone, the colour was faded, and there was a hole in the knee. Casey didn't notice any of this as he stood shirtless in front of the cracked vanity mirror that he had pulled out of his parent's closet. The only thing that he noticed was that the skirt didn't fit.


**I've wanted to write a fic where Casey was gender fluid for a while now but I just now got around to it. I know I should be working on my other Jonatello story but I really wanted to write this and it doesn't really fit in with my other story. I haven't updated things in a while because of my summer job but I'll be getting to them now. Sorry if the characters are a bit OOC. I'm still working on characterization. Enjoy. Oh, and do you guys have any fic requests for future stories? Tell me because I've really fallen behind on my writing and want to do some more little drabble pieces! This story can also be found on my tumblr, totally-not-a-filthy-homestuck**

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_Sugar and spice and puppy dog tails, that's what Casey Jones is made of._

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The skirt was made out of old denim, the hem was coming undone, the colour was faded, and there was a hole in the knee. Casey didn't notice any of this as he stood shirtless in front of the cracked vanity mirror that he had pulled out of his parent's closet. The only thing that he noticed was that the skirt didn't fit. It hung too loosely at his hips and the fabric folded over at his skinny thighs which made his exposed knees look knobby. Even if the skirt was worn down, it was still a nice skirt. It might even be pretty if a woman, one with shapely hips and full legs, wore it. However, on Casey it just looked ridiculous.

'Of course it doesn't fit. Skirts are made for chicks.' Casey thought to himself.

The thought made his stomach sink a little and he didn't know why. It was the truth. Casey had been taught by his dad a long time ago that skirts and dresses were for girls. Jeans and pants were for guys. That was what his dad had taught him. Casey absentmindedly rubbed his hand against his cheek. For a moment he thought he saw a bruise in his reflection but it was all in his head. He could still feel the punch; hard and cold and bitter. At the time Casey didn't understand why his dad had hit him or why his mom was crying or why they wouldn't let him play dress up with his little sister anymore but now he knew.

Skirts and dresses were for girls. Not boys.

So what was he doing now? Casey took another look at himself in the mirror. His bare chest was flat, his waist was straight as a line, his hips were being swallowed by the waistband of the skirt, and his leg hair was prickling against the cold air of the room. Everything about the reflection looked ugly to Casey. Still, something felt right about it. If he shaved his legs, clenched the skirt's waist line a bit, and put on a nice top then maybe…maybe…Casey didn't know what maybe meant. Maybe he could be nice looking? Maybe he could be pretty?

_'Maybe you can be a fuckin' tranny!' _

Casey could almost hear his dad yelling those words at him, could almost feel the new bruise that would form if his dad walked in on him right now. Thankfully his dad was away on a business trip. His little sister was staying at a friend's house. And his mom, well who knew where the hell she went anymore?

He was alone in his room; just him, a broken mirror, and a skirt. Casey kept looking at his reflection, imagining what the skirt would look like if his hips were a little wider, his legs a little curvier, his chest a little fleshier. As he stared at himself, Casey didn't notice the knocking at his window, or the latch being undone, or the figure that entered his room. It wasn't until whoever had entered his room spoke that Casey realized he was no longer alone.

"Casey? What are you _doing_?"

Casey turned around to see Donatello standing behind him open mouthed. Casey's mouth went dry and his heart speed up. He clutched at the denim material of the skirt, looked up at Donnie, and then back at the skirt.

"Dude!" He yelled, "You can't just fuckin' walk into people's rooms! What the hell is wrong with you? I'm not-this isn't-I'm doin' nothing!"

Casey yanked at the skirt to get it off, his cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment. He didn't know what Donnie would do next. Would he run off and go tell the others? Would he stand there and laugh? Would he call him a freak? Casey was struggling with getting the skirt unzipped when Donnie placed a hand on his shoulder. Casey flinched unwillingly at the touch. What happened next, Casey was not prepared for.

"I can take it in for you." Donnie said.

"What?" Casey looked at his friend with a confused expression.

"The skirt. It doesn't look like it fits right, just like the rest of your clothes actually. But I can do some measurements and try to make it fit better."

Casey looked closely at Donnie to see if he was teasing him and going to break out in a sneer soon but the turtle's offer seemed genuine.

"What? You aren't, I mean, this doesn't freak you out? You-you walk in on me being a freak an' you don't say anything?"

"First of all Casey," Donnie's face looked slightly annoyed as he started to speak, "you aren't a freak. Second, I'm a little shocked…ok a little shocked is an understatement but, uh, sorry but can we sit down?"

Donnie pushed a pile of dirty clothes off of Casey's bed and sat down. Casey, too unnerved to do anything else, followed suit. They started talking about things that Casey had never gotten to talk to anyone about. The conversation started out awkwardly but soon turned comfortable.

"I mean, I guess I always felt like a girl but bein' a guy is cool too you know? An' I guess being in April's body just felt really nice? Like, not in a gross pervert way but, I don't know. It made me think about how I used to think bein' a girl would be nice. Not all the time. But sometimes, you know?"

"I believe the term you're looking for is gender fluid." Donnie supplied.

"Yeah, yeah that sounds right I guess. Like, when you're sometimes a boy an' sometimes a girl?"

"I think so. I can always do a bit more research to help you if you want. We could look at LGBTQIA forums. I could print out some documents to help you. Or send you links from my phone. Would that work?"

"Yeah Don, that sounds…that sounds great."

They continued talking, venturing onto new topics. At one point, Donnie crossed his legs and Casey leaned against him so he could braid the teen's longish hair. There wasn't much to work with but it was enough.

"Don? Thanks for bein' cool with this. I mean, I don't think I really want ta' tell anyone else yet but thanks for not freakin' out. You're pretty chill with this." Casey said.

"Yeah well, I have a lot of experience." Don replied as he tried to work his big fingers into Casey's fine hair.

"Whatcha' mean by that?"

"I mean…" Don took a long pause and a deep breath before continuing, "I wasn't always a guy-I mean, I _was_ always a guy. It's just my brothers and father didn't know; they didn't think I was. Ah ha! Done!"

Casey looked in the mirror at saw that his small length of hair had been nicely braided. He was still shirtless and still in an ill fitting skirt but he felt better, looked better. He almost felt pretty. There was one thing missing though.

Casey grabbed Donnie's arms and pulled him down for a quick rough kiss.

"Donatello Hamato, you just got kissed by Cassidy Jones."

Donnie beamed down at Cassidy. She smiled back.


End file.
